


Unspoken

by inkstainedwretch



Series: Jealousy and Other Green-Eyed Monsters [2]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Play, Jealousy, Lestat flirts with everyone, M/M, Vampire Sex, a surprising amount of feelings, this probably isn't how the swoon works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 01:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedwretch/pseuds/inkstainedwretch
Summary: Lestat has taken a liking to Daniel, while everyone is staying on the Night Island. Though he won’t say it out loud, Louis is getting tired of it.(Not a sequel toNever Enough, but rather the same story from Louis’s perspective.)





	Unspoken

For several nights, whenever I had wished to find Lestat, I had sought out Armand.

Lestat had become rather taken with Daniel, of late. It hadn’t come as a surprise to me; my first impression of the poor boy, trembling with nerves as he set up the tape recorder, was that Lestat would have loved him. It didn’t upset me, either, as it did Armand. I was glad to see Lestat emerging from the deep pain Akasha and her death had caused him.

I would be lying, however, if I tried to say that I wasn’t bothered by how much time Lestat had been spending with the boy. There was a century of unsaid words between us, and there had been such little time to say them between when I had finally found him, and when he’d been stolen from me once more.

Again and again the fact that he was alive, and that he was here, had haunted my waking thoughts. Lying underground beside Gabrielle, sitting at the great table listening to Maharet, walking through the streets of the Night Island looking for prey, I had thought of little else but the way he had kissed me before going onstage. And then, the music itself…

There stood Armand, at the end of the hall, lurking in the doorway and watching them. The lights were too bright, in this ostentatious labyrinth, and they cast a strange yellow sheen over the lovely auburn of his hair. Not that he wasn’t beautiful, of course. There wasn’t anything in the universe that could change his beauty, and there never had been.

Armand’s expression was still as stone, but I had learned long ago to read his eyes, and they were aflame with agitation. He was jealous, fiercely so, and I didn’t need to do much guessing to know why. I had seen jealousy from him before, of course, but never quite like this. It looked good on him, the flare of possessive anger lending an almost petulant cast to his features.

I came to stand next to him, and he didn’t look at me as I approached, nor I at him. We both watched as Lestat entertained his latest audience. Daniel looked star struck, much the way he had that night in San Francisco. Lestat clearly loved it, his usual tempting charm rolling from him like smoke as he spoke. It made sense; Lestat loved nothing more than finding someone he could impress.

“You wear jealousy well,” I said to Armand.

Armand said nothing, and in the corner of my eye, I saw his posture shift. Lestat was smiling in that playful, teasing way he saved for when he had something truly outlandish to say. From the way Armand bristled, it must have had quite the effect on Daniel, but all I could see were Lestat’s eyes. They were gleaming, the way they so often gleamed around me, the way I had first seen in New Orleans, centuries ago. _I thought you wanted to die, Louis._ At the very least, Lestat clearly wanted to take Daniel to bed. I had the feeling he wanted to take him quite a few other places, as well.

“He’s thinking about taking Daniel with him,” I said.

“I know,” Armand replied, “but he won’t.”

I felt the fist that had taken hold of my heart loosen somewhat, and I laughed with relief.

“Oh, that’s good to hear,” I said. “I didn’t think you would allow that, but with you, I’m never sure.”

Armand was looking at me now, and I could see, however indirectly, the way his face softened just a little. There was the faintest trace of sorrow in his eyes, but there was also fondness, fondness that only grew as the moments passed. I hadn’t seen him look at me that way in quite a while. When we had first crossed paths at the Sonoma compound, he had approached me with some caution, but he didn’t look at me with fear anymore. Yet it wasn’t until this very instant, seeing that affection in his gaze, that I realized he had missed me.

I swear to you, I saw Lestat lick his lips, and I’d had enough. I turned to look at Armand, certain that he was equally tired of the display.

“Do you want to go first, or shall I?”

Armand gave a little smile, and his eyes flicked toward the sofa.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

It was good to be near him again, I thought, on this island where we could all be alive and ourselves. Such a wonder he’d built.

I walked leisurely through the doorway, one hand in the pocket of my jeans, and I heard Armand behind me. I went straight up to the sofa and took a seat beside Lestat – or rather, nearly behind him, given how much he had turned to face Daniel. I leaned toward him just enough that he would notice, looking rather intently at him with a soft smile. He stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at me, and when he did I saw Armand walk past us.

Daniel looked as though he were about to say something to me, and then Armand’s hand reached over the back of the sofa and touched his shoulder. Hardly an instant, and then it was gone, and Armand kept walking without so much as a look in our direction. I grinned, which made Lestat look back at Daniel, who had turned to see Armand headed toward the stairs. Daniel turned back to us with a half-apologetic expression, and I just waved my hand toward the staircase. In a moment, he was up, and I was laughing softly.

“I suppose you think you’re very clever,” Lestat muttered, turning to look at me with a scowl.

I just kissed him. I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I took his hand in mine and guided him to the hallway, and thankfully he didn’t have any more comments to make.

The room I had to myself was closer than the suite Lestat was staying in, which was just as well. His latest manuscript, and its source material, was in his suite, and I didn’t want to give him any reason to slide back down into a grief-stricken collapse. He had loved her, I knew. Lestat falls in love the way a stone falls into water. But the first few days after her death had been sheer anguish. He hadn’t been himself, with her – she hadn’t allowed it – and so it had taken so, so long for him to come back to us. Of all the things she had done, I hated her more than anything for taking him from me again.  

When we arrived in my room, smaller than his bedroom by roughly an order of magnitude, he looked at me with that charming smile and ran a hand over my cheek.

“You know, I expected this kind of thing from Armand, but you never struck me as the jealous type,” he said.

I pulled him to me, resting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around him. He gave a startled sort of “oh!”, and then I felt him hold me tightly. His hand came up to run gently through my hair, and he spoke to me in a low, enticing murmur.

“Why did you have to separate us?” he asked. “Why couldn’t you and Armand have spirited us all away to his little penthouse? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.”

The tips of his nails slid gently over my scalp.

“The way they both look at you.”

Something twisted in my stomach, and I pulled back to look at him, feeling agitation crackle through me.

“Will I never again spend a night alone with you?” I whispered.

This seemed to knock him out of his flirtatious mood, so much so that I worried for a second I’d gone a step too far. His face fell, his eyes darkened, and I was certain he’d spend the rest of the night curled up on the bed in silence, but then his hand came to my face again.

“I’m here, Louis,” he whispered, and I knew from the haunted look in his eyes that it was just as much for his benefit as mine. “I’m right here.”

I kissed him deeply, clutching at the lapels of his shiny black jacket and pulling him to the bed. The sturdy boots he wore likely would have taken a mortal a few seconds to unfasten, but he kicked them off with ease. My own clothing was almost an afterthought, in my effort to get to him. I had to see the skin under the clothes, had to know he was whole underneath. By the time he was turning us over, looking down at me with something close to wonder as he held me by both shoulders, I could see every inch of him.

I reached up and ran my fingers through the shining gold of his hair. He gave a soft sigh, his lips curled up in a smile, but he didn’t look away from me. He felt so wonderfully solid, his weight pressing insistently onto me everywhere we touched. I was surrounded by him, held down and transfixed by his gaze, exactly where I wanted to be.

“Lestat…” I murmured, letting my thumb run gently over his cheek.

With a shivering breath, he came down to kiss me, and with his chest pressed to mine, I hummed softly with delight. I felt the slow drag of his nails down my side, felt him shift up, slide his body against mine, and I gasped. He did it again, his hips pressing to my own enough that I felt the slow slide of blood-swollen length against length, and my breath hissed through my teeth. Then, he lifted up, enough for his hand to slide around the inside curve of my hip, and when he took me in his hand, my head snapped backward as I moaned aloud.

With a soft laugh, he kissed me again, tightening his grip and beginning to stroke me slowly. I reached a hand down to return the favor, but he lifted up quickly with a murmured, “mm, not yet”. Instead I clung to him, did my best to move my hips along with him, took his lower lip between my own and gently sucked. It was a slow burn that his touch was lighting, sending warm languid waves through my body, a gentle hum of pleasure that simmered under my skin. I was in no hurry for it to stop, delighting in the way his hand twisted around me, in the way his thumb swiped lazily over the tip.

So, when suddenly his hand was gone from me, the sound I made in protest was a little louder than I’d expected. He grinned at me in a way that made me want to hit him, but before I could his mouth was at my ear. His voice was a low, quiet purr, one that sounded far too self-satisfied.

“That’s it, Louis,” he said, “let me hear you…”

His hand was back, lower than where it had been, and I hissed softly as I felt the sharp cut of his nail.

“Let me hear what I do to you.”

His blood-slick fingertip slid into me, curling up as it went. I sighed, letting my head roll back, and I felt his lips pressing at my neck. He kissed softly, with teasing gentleness, and little feather-light sparks began to crackle under his touch. One of my hands curled gently around his neck, not enough to hold him there but enough to be felt. A second finger joined the first, he kissed open-mouthed at the pulse below my jaw, and slowly he slid his tongue across it.

A moan rumbled through my chest, I gripped his neck a bit tighter, and in return he pressed fervent, bloodless kisses across the skin of my neck. The sparks began to catch, and I moaned again, louder this time. I’d been surprised and touched, that first night after I’d finally found him, to learn that he still remembered how weak these mortal kisses made me. As it was now, the louder I was, the more he gave me, his fingers quickening their movements, his mouth so gentle on my skin I could have wept.

“Do you want me to make you come?” he asked, and I felt his voice as he did. “Or is there something else you’d like first?”

He punctuated the question by sealing his mouth around the junction where neck met shoulder, the barest edge of his fang scraping over the skin, and sliding his tongue lovingly across the small, shallow cut it made. Naturally, my first reply was a loud cry and a hand fisted in his hair. He seemed to take this for an answer, from the way he tilted his hand, and _oh_ , it was good. It was so tempting to just let him continue, to fall into it and let him break me apart. But there _was_ something else I wanted, and so I used my hold on him to lift him up.

“Here,” I whispered, “come _here_.”

For a moment, he looked at me with an almost indulgent smile, and then as though he’d been caught, it turned to a devilish grin. I felt another sharp drag of his nail, and then as he entered, I wrapped my arms around him and moaned long and low. He nipped at my ear, and I heard a soft “Louis…” as he began to move.

God, it felt good to have him so close. This wasn’t a slow heat any longer, but a blaze, and I held onto him as tightly as I could, burying my face in his hair where it had fallen over his shoulder. It was so soft against my cheek; it had always been so wonderfully soft. Strands of it moved as he did, brushing over my open lips, and the sounds that left me now were somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

I reached up with my legs, intending to wrap them around his back, and in a quick movement he brought them up over his shoulders. My eyes flew wide open; I could _feel_ him now, and the way he looked down at me was more than I could bear. I let my head fall to the side and moaned loudly, my eyes threatening to slip shut. Lestat’s whole body shuddered for a moment, and what he said next could have been my name, could have been nonsense.

“It’s too much,” I whined, “Lestat…god, _harder_.”

Without a word, he complied, driving into me hard enough that I felt the drag of the sheets sliding under me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, no matter how badly I wanted to. The fire beneath my skin was about to consume me entirely, fueled not just by Lestat’s movement, but by the feeling of his hand on my cheek. It wasn’t just my body that sang, in that moment.

“Lestat,” I gasped, feeling my body near its breaking point, “ _Lestat_ , _ah_ –”

“Yes,” he said quickly, “yes, god, let me see you.”

The whole of me twisted upward, one of my hands clutching at the sheets like an anchor. Pleasure crashed over me, threatened to drown me, and I was not quiet. By nature, I am not a vocal being, but Lestat never fails to make me so, so loud. Yet all I heard was him. The hitch of his breath, the way his voice pressed at the sides of his throat, unable to be contained, and then a loud, faintly desperate moan.

He shook apart with a sound of heartbreak, of agony, but when I opened my eyes I saw such ecstasy on his features. As it made its way through him, his body stilled, his eyes pinching shut as though he were trying to keep it from leaving him. It did, though, and with an affectionate kiss to my knee, he let me go.

We lay facing one another, and I don’t know what he saw in my eyes, but in his own there was fire. Not quite the blaze that had just consumed us both, but the warm fire of the hearth. The fire of the home. I loved him so much.

“Oh, come here and kiss me,” he said with a smile.

I made my way to him without a word, and wrapped in his arms again I kissed the grin from his mouth. His hands slid lazily over my back, down my sides, up over my shoulders, and all the while he made the softest sounds of happiness. My fingertips traced the side of his neck, up to his jaw, and when he felt them, he drew back.

He took one of them between his lips, then two, kissing them gently, rolling his tongue between them. After a moment, I felt the edge of his fang, and then I watched spellbound as his tongue spread the little red drops across his mouth. His lips closed over them, and I heard the faint hum of delight he gave, while the little wounds pulsed with blood. They healed, and then shortly, they were replaced, again and again until he licked them clean.

“I’ve always loved the way you taste,” he murmured, kissing the very tips of them.

My first instinct was to invite him to taste more – proof that some things never changed, I supposed. I nearly did, in fact. I was about to brush my hair back and draw him near to my neck when he looked at me again. His expression had lost its domesticity, and even before he spoke I could tell from the glint in his eyes I wasn’t going to like it.

“I wasn’t joking, you know,” he said. “What do you think of my little idea, now that you’ve had me to yourself?”

I took a deep, deep breath and looked at him without the slightest hint of amusement.

“You’re being serious,” I said flatly.

“Of course I am,” he purred. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it at least once.”

“Nothing is ever enough for you, is it?” I asked.

He looked fondly at me now, leaning into my hand.

“I didn’t say we were done,” he said. “Never doubt that I want you, Louis. Not ever.”

I paused for a moment, trying very hard not to get distracted by the way he was looking at my throat.

“If I say I’ll consider it,” I began, “will you swear not to bring it up again tonight?”

He leaned in and kissed me. “Cross my heart.”

“Then I’ll consider it,” I said. “Now, come here.”

This time I did bring him to my neck, and he kissed hungrily at the skin before biting down, and I was lost to him again. His body slid against mine, the pull of his mouth tugged at my veins, and how could I help but moan helplessly into the crook of his neck? How could I keep from shivering, when he withdrew his teeth and laved his tongue over the little cuts?

“Take me, darling one,” he whispered, near enough that I shuddered. “Make me scream for you.”

With a soft sound of need, I pulled away enough to shove him onto his stomach and climb atop him. He turned to look at me as best he could, and the ghost of that impish grin was still on his face. I ran my fingers through his hair, not taking hold, just feeling the soft waves, and then I rose to my knees, took hold of his hips and pulled him up to me. He followed until he was on all fours, arching his body up to meet me.

“How long has it been,” I asked softly, “since we did this?”

He didn’t answer except for a soft whine, which said a lot. One hand traveled down the ridges of his spine, like carved stone under my fingertips, until it was in his hair again. This time, I gripped it tightly and shoved his shoulders back down onto the mattress, so that a tangle of gold spilled over the sheets, and he rocked back toward me with a whimper. I surrounded him now, covered him with my body, and so I felt every breath he took as though it were my own.

“Yes,” he whispered, “oh god yes, Louis…”

With my other hand, I gave his skin a slice with my nail, letting the blood flow freely onto my hand. He moaned aloud, his eyes fluttering closed, his calm expression belied by the way his breathing was only getting faster. When the first finger slid in, he was louder, but he still looked so damnably relaxed. I introduced the second with less gentleness, just to see his eyes pinch tightly shut.

“ _Oh_ …” he sighed, biting the corner of his lip. “I love it when you let your temper out to play.”

That sent a bolt of lust straight through me, which was more than enough encouragement. With a short turn of my wrist, I felt part of him that was familiar to me, however long it had been. I gave him no warning before I curled my fingers rapidly, pressing down again and again until it seemed he couldn’t breathe. His fingers scratched at the sheets, his back curving up, his hips leaning into me, and now there was nothing but unbearable need in his expression. I leaned over him and kissed his shoulder, letting my fangs scratch the skin.

“You’ve missed this,” I hissed. “You’ve missed _me_. No one else knows you like this, Lestat.”

To prove my point, I tugged his head back and nipped at his ear, swiping my tongue over the sensitive spot just behind. With a cry, he leaned back into me, lifting up a little and reaching a hand back in an effort to grab at my hair.

“ _Louis,_ ” he sighed, “Please, Louis.”

Desire flared in me; I wanted him more than words could say, and I wasn’t feeling patient. I wanted more than anything to see that impeccable control of his break down. My fingers left him, and with another flick of my nail, I slid into him.

Oh, I had missed him. It had been too long, and his body was so hot as it curved up into me, and the sounds he made were so sweet, so _desperate_ , that my actions backfired. Even though he was the one reaching for me, crying out each time I moved, unable to keep his eyes open, it felt as though I were the one that had lost control. I drove into him hard enough that we moved forward up the bed, yanked at his hair just to hear him sob with bliss, and all the while I couldn’t get enough of him. I had to have more.

I lunged down, buried my teeth in his neck, and in a flash I felt his hand in my hair. He tasted like lust, like raw need, like the relief of a man who’s just been given something he has needed his whole life. He gave a loud cry, and then it seemed he found his words, trapped as they were between us.

“More,” he gasped, “please, _please_ , god, Louis…”

The sound of his voice, breathless and plaintive, set me aflame, but the words themselves… Lestat didn’t beg, not when he had his wits about him. He wasn’t scheming anymore, wasn’t thinking of anything but me, and so there was nothing to do but give him what he asked for. I pulled him closer, got one hand between us and took him in hand, pumping him just a little out of time with the movement of our hips. I tasted the shock of pleasure it gave him through his blood, and it sent a flare through me as well, flowing between us like a current.

“Oh, I can feel it,” his voice was wound tight now, “ _god_ , you’re going to make me come…”

With a growl, I released his hair and raked my nails across his chest, hard enough that I felt little drops of blood on my fingertips. Lestat gasped, I heard his other hand tearing at the sheets, and then with a fractured scream, he broke apart. The whole of him shuddered, and he clenched hard around me, pushing back against me even as I pressed him harder into the mattress.

I was flooded with ecstasy, from his voice, from his body, from his blood, and I couldn’t possibly have endured it. With a loud cry, I began to shake, drinking deeply from him, and I burned with bliss from the outside in. We stayed that way for a long moment, letting it roll through us, and it left us slowly, the way smoke lingers in the air. When my teeth left him, I lifted up to look at his face, and his eyes were closed, and he was smiling softly, without a twinge of mischief.

I separated us, lay down beside him, and after a moment, he turned his head to look at me. I saw that his eyes were rimmed red, and there was a faint red mark from where one tear, perhaps two, had escaped out the side of the eye I hadn’t seen. I blinked, wondered if I should say something, but without another word he came over to me. I took him into my arms, let him rest his head on my chest, and with a soft sigh, he relaxed into me. We were quiet for a long moment after, the only movement between us his fingertip drawing lazy patterns on my skin, and then he spoke.

“Would you marry me, if I asked you to?”

I hadn’t been thinking much before he’d said it, but the question stunned my brain into complete silence. There were so many questions, _just how exactly would that happen_ , _you realize it’s been a matter of weeks since I found you again_ , _what in god’s name brought this to mind_ , but only one of them made its way past my lips.

“Why would you…” I began, then stopped because really, there was no use.

“You were right,” he murmured.

It took me a moment to remember what he was talking about, and when I did it struck a surprisingly strong chord. _No one else knows you like this, Lestat._ Not even the people he had known for far longer. Not even the people who had been with him in the decades and decades of silence before the concert.

Oh, I was out of my depth now.

“I’m not asking, don’t worry,” he said, hardly loud enough for me to hear.

At a bit of a loss for what to do, I ran one hand over his back.

“I love you,” I said, hoping that would serve as an answer.

He didn’t look at me, but his smile brightened a little bit.

“You do such marvelously strange things to me, Louis.”

He didn’t say anything else, nor did he move, but that was alright. We had the rest of the night, and I was more than content to have him here with me. I was sure that when I awoke the next evening, I would have to deal with his ridiculous idea more directly, but for now it was only us. For now, he was mine, and I was going to take every moment of it that I possibly could.  


End file.
